User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March Original/@comment-3135907-20161117040642/@comment-2246928-20170518201350

"Oh," said a bored voice. "I didn't terribly mind it."

A jumble of black dropped from the sky and landed with a slow, graceful hop, folding his wings as he set his eyes, black and shimmering like a pool of liquid ebony, upon the strange band of creatures. The raven looked over each one of them, before his eyes flicked back to Moricel, an unimpressed look upon his features and the trill of his voice. "Are you the owner of these slaves, juggling masked one who falls like an egglet from a nest?" Two more ravens swept down and joined him, flanking him but remaining just a few steps behind.